Christmas at the Little Village Bakery

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘I think I could get used to it,’ Tori replied stubbornly.

  ‘So what were you two whispering about?’ Rich asked.

  ‘I was just telling Darcie that we have a good bunch of people in the village,’ Spencer replied. ‘Apart from you, of course. I told her to stay away from you.’

  ‘I’m trouble alright,’ Rich laughed, ‘but the right kind.’

  ‘Is there a right kind?’ Tori asked.

  ‘You’re looking at it.’ Rich puffed his chest out and Tori giggled.

  ‘Whatever he’s telling you, don’t believe a word of it,’ Dylan called down the bar, as he pulled a pint for one of the Jim/Saul combo. Darcie looked across the bar, but she didn’t smile or laugh like everyone else. Spencer thought she looked terrified.

  ‘So,’ Rich asked, turning his attention back to Tori and Spencer, ‘are you looking forward to the parents arriving?’

  ‘I’m not sure looking forward is how I’d describe it,’ Spencer said. ‘More like battening down the hatches.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing Lewis and Jenny,’ Rich said. ‘It must be, what, six years since they went to Spain?’

  ‘Seven.’

  ‘Bloody hell, time flies.’

  ‘It does. I’ve got so used to it now, though, it will be weird having them around.’

  ‘But you’ve seen them since?’ Tori asked, looking confused.

  ‘I have, but usually in short bursts and with some relief once it’s over,’ Spencer laughed. ‘They can be a bit… eccentric.’

  ‘I’ll say,’ Rich laughed.

  ‘You’re not supposed to say,’ Dylan cut in as he made his way over to where they were chatting.

  Darcie scurried out to the back room at his approach. Spencer watched her go but said nothing, though nobody else seemed to notice.

  ‘I, for one, am seriously looking forward to seeing them again. The place has been far too normal without them.’

  Spencer smiled and wished he could be as excited as everyone else for the return of his parents to Honeybourne after seven years away. He was even less excited about the prospect of them meeting Tori’s parents, who had decided, for some unfathomable reason, that the Christmas season was a good time to travel to a tiny village they’d never heard of to meet his parents for the first time. She had explained to them that it had been a difficult decision to make but in the absence of another opportunity, it would have to be Christmas if she was going to get acquainted with Spencer’s parents, and that they had a lifetime of Christmases ahead for her to make it up to them. But, of course, they didn’t want to be parted from her during the festive season. Even more unsettling for Spencer was the notion that they probably wanted to stuff everything up rather than be with their daughter – who had, for all intents and purposes, snubbed them in favour of spending Christmas with her boyfriend and his parents (a boyfriend they had no love for) and probably pissed them off so much that they’d be even more determined to wreck things than they had been before.

  Even though he had been living in Boulder for the past year or more, Spencer had only met her parents once. They had been so cold and dismissive towards him that the ordeal had prompted his and Tori’s first real argument. After that, they had agreed that it was probably best to keep interaction to a minimum until her parents got used to the idea that the man marrying Tori wasn’t going to be some jock named Hunter Ford, as they had wanted, but an Englishman they didn’t like very much. Spencer wondered if she had even broken the news of their engagement to her parents at all, because he was quite sure that they would have been on his doorstep with a shotgun if she had. Perhaps he should have asked their permission before proposing to Tori, despite being terrified by the prospect, because by not doing so he may have just compounded their dislike of him to titanic proportions. He had asked Tori about their reaction to the announcement of the engagement and she simply told him things were fine. The whole thing had become such a headache he didn’t dare ask anymore, satisfied with Tori’s vague responses on the subject. So when he had mentioned that his parents were flying over from Spain to spend Christmas in Honeybourne and that he wanted to go home to see them, he expected her to tell him that she would spend Christmas with her own parents. Instead, the plan had somehow developed into Tori telling him that she wanted to spend Christmas in England with him and his parents, quickly followed by the revelation that her parents had been so outraged by this idea that they had decided to come to Honeybourne for Christmas as well, determined to be with her one way or another. Every time Spencer thought about it, the idea filled him with dread, but he cheerfully tried to ignore it in the hope it was all a bad dream that would go away. Now, with the imminent arrival of both sets of parents, it was impossible to deny that it was very definitely going to happen. God only knew what they would all think of each other or, indeed, what Mr and Mrs Dempsey would think of Honeybourne itself.

  He took a gulp of his beer and fondly remembered the days when he had been young and single and life had been no more complicated than the problem of how to get his hands on a new set of Top Trumps. Of course, he had been very young indeed then, but that was pretty much the last time he could remember life being uncomplicated.

  ‘My parents are staying here, at the pub,’ Tori said, shaking Spencer from his musings. ‘I checked with Colleen and she was still ok with that, as she has the extra help now. And Spencer’s parents will stay at his place with us.’

  ‘That makes sense, as it used to be theirs,’ Rich said.

  ‘It did?’ Tori looked at Spencer, who nodded.

  ‘I bought it from them when they moved away.’

  ‘I didn’t know you owned it,’ Tori replied. ‘That will make Daddy happy.’

  ‘Not outright,’ Spencer added, ‘there’s only a tiny mortgage but it’s still a mortgage.’

  ‘Oh. Well, we don’t need to tell him about that part,’ she replied cheerfully, taking another sip of her drink and this time managing it without pulling a face.

  Spencer shot a helpless glance at Dylan, who just grinned. He’d never been the sort for impetuous gestures, but eloping seemed like a very attractive prospect right now.

  One snakebite had quickly led to another – and another. Tori wasn’t sure at all that she liked the drink, despite the fact that every new glass placed before her was downed, but she did like the jovial atmosphere of the Dog and Hare. Everyone who came in was welcomed warmly, and everyone seemed to know everyone else.

  Dylan passed a third (or possibly fourth) drink to Tori from the other side of the bar as Spencer was grabbed by Ruth Evans for an interrogation about something or other. ‘On the house,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘Why, that’s very kind,’ Tori said, laughing. ‘What have I done to earn that?’

  ‘You’ve put up with Spencer for a start,’ Dylan said. ‘That’s got to be worth a drink or two.’

  ‘You’ll have me worried that I’ve made a mistake,’ Tori replied, taking a sip. ‘Is there something about my fiancé I should know? Does he have some dark and terrible secret?’

  ‘Far from it,’ Dylan said. He smiled in Spencer’s direction. ‘He’s a good lad, you know, one of the best. And I don’t say that about many.’

  ‘He says you were close.’

  ‘We were. Still are, sort of. But I suppose distance changes that. I was sorry to see him go when he left for America, but everyone understood it was something he needed to do.’

  Tori was thoughtful as she took another sip of her drink. Something he needed to do… It made it sound as though Spencer had left Honeybourne for more than just a change of scenery, but he’d never told her anything different than that. Was he hiding something? She glanced across to see him give Ruth an indulgent smile, his cheeks crinkling into the dimples she had grown to love. She couldn’t believe that he would hide anything from her.

  ‘He grew up with you? And with your sister? You were all close, or so people tell me.’

  ‘Yes…’ Dylan replied, an
d Tori suddenly detected a shift in his tone. Was Dylan now hiding something from her, or was the drink causing her imagination to run wild?

  ‘But he was happy, living here?’ Tori asked. ‘Before he left for the US?’

  ‘Oh, yeah…’ Dylan rubbed at a spillage with a bar cloth. ‘I think he got a bit fed up of being on his own sometimes, and he had his share of problems, like everyone does, but he was happy. It’s a great place to live… Maybe you’ll find out, eh?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Tori smiled.

  ‘So what do you think of it so far, now that you’ve had time to get used to village life a bit?’ Dylan asked, his tone back to normal, as if the strange moment between them had never happened.

  ‘It’s lovely. Quaint. Just how you imagine an English village to be.’

  ‘Ah, you say that now, but wait until all the scandals come out…’

  ‘I bet you know them all.’

  ‘A few, yeah. Ruth, though – half an hour with Ruth and you’ll know it all. If you can stand the extra information about her bladder problems, that is.’

  ‘I thought she had irritable bowel syndrome,’ Tori laughed, ‘at least that’s what Spencer says.’

  ‘I think she’s got it all. At least she likes to tell everyone she has. Absolutely no memory for what you’ve told her ten minutes ago or what she’s told you a million times about her ailments, but ask her about Frank Stephenson’s affair in 1987 and she’s sharp as a tack.’

  Tori giggled. ‘Frank had an affair? He looks so innocent!’

  ‘Don’t be fooled by anyone around here. We might seem like a bunch of country bumpkins but there are plenty of dark secrets.’ He glanced up to see Ruth sidling along the bar. ‘Speak of the devil…’ he breathed, and Tori erupted into a new fit of giggles.

  ‘Ooh Dylan,’ she crooned, handing him an empty shot glass. ‘It’s lucky you don’t work in here every night, or I’d be an alcoholic.’

  ‘She is…’ Dylan mouthed to Tori from behind his hand, and alongside the vague alarm that Ruth might have seen the exchange, she also felt the urge to laugh out loud again. She could see why everyone in this village seemed to love Dylan so much as she felt the full-beam effect of his charm.

  ‘Going to the little boys’ room,’ Spencer announced, shuffling over and giving Tori a peck on the cheek.

  ‘Me too,’ Rich called, following him.

  ‘Together?’ Dylan asked.

  ‘When you gotta go, you gotta go,’ Rich replied carelessly as he followed Spencer to the toilets.

  ‘Probably selling him fags,’ Dylan said with a grin.

  ‘Fags?’ Tori asked.

  ‘Cigarettes.’

  She frowned.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Dylan chuckled. ‘It was a terrible joke and I probably should have stopped telling it when I left school.’ He looked up to see Terri, the newsagent, at the bar. ‘What can I get you?’ he asked, making his way over.

  ‘It’s good to see them getting along after all that happened,’ Ruth said, staring in the direction Spencer and Rich had just taken.

  ‘Who?’ Tori asked.

  ‘Spencer and Rich Green.’

  ‘They didn’t get along? What happened?’

  ‘Oh, and that Dylan Smith…’ Ruth continued, practically drooling as she turned her attention to watch him pull a pint of Guinness. ‘What I wouldn’t do for a kiss and a cuddle in a dark corner with that one.’

  ‘What happened between Spencer and Rich?’ Tori asked again.

  ‘He’s changed, since he met Millie,’ Ruth continued. ‘There was a time when he was a very naughty boy.’

  ‘Dylan was?’ Tori asked.

  ‘Oh yes, but that all changed when Millie arrived. I had wondered whether your Spencer was a bit sweet on Millie.’

  ‘Spencer liked Millie?’ The conversation was beginning to make Tori dizzy.

  ‘Sorry?’ Ruth said, turning to Tori as though she had quite forgotten she was there. ‘Oh, no, Spencer was all sweet on someone else… I forget who it was now…’

  ‘Could you remember if you had a minute to think about it?’ Tori asked. She suspected she already had the answer, even though she couldn’t really say what it was she had seen between Spencer and Jasmine at the emergency pub meeting that had first set the alarm bells ringing. It was more of a vague intuition, something in the way he reacted when she was near. She desperately wanted to be wrong, though, and maybe Ruth would give her that answer.

  ‘He’s a lovely boy. You’re very lucky.’

  ‘I know,’ Tori said, feeling more frustrated by the minute with the way the conversation seemed to be going. She was finding herself with more questions than answers. Dylan hadn’t been kidding when he said Ruth’s memory was shot. ‘Did he have many girlfriends growing up?’

  ‘I don’t recall… No, I don’t recall any.’

  ‘But he must have had one? You said he was sweet on someone.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask him yourself,’ Ruth said, nodding in the direction of the gents, where Spencer and Rich had just emerged, laughing. ‘It is good to see them getting along,’ she added. But it didn’t look as if Tori was going to get more out of her than that.

  It was gone midnight by the time Dylan and Darcie walked through the front door of the Old Bakery. Millie was fast asleep in one of the armchairs in the back room, where the living quarters were, while Jasmine sat crooning to Oscar, who seemed to be more contented in her arms than Darcie had ever seen him with anyone. Dylan had been a lively companion on the walk home, a bit tipsy from all the free drinks he’d had from customers, and gently teasing Darcie about everything from her serious demeanour to asking when she was going to get a man and have kids of her own. It really wasn’t what she needed, and she was only too relieved to walk into the bakery, where she could lock herself away and try to pretend that Dylan Smith and his charming, handsome, stupid face didn’t exist.

  ‘Hey,’ Jasmine said as they went through. ‘How’s it been? Enjoyed playing at landlord and landlady?’ She wafted a hand in front of her face as her brother leaned over her to get a closer look at Oscar. ‘Oh, I can tell by your breath that you’ve enjoyed it, Dylan. Some things change, like becoming a dad, but other things, like you being unable to say no to a beer, never do.’

  ‘It would have been rude not to when everyone was telling me to get one for myself,’ he grinned.

  Millie stirred in the chair and he staggered over to kiss her.

  ‘Ugh!’ she exclaimed, pushing him off and rubbing her eyes. ‘You smell as though you drank more than you served!’

  ‘Is that any way to speak to the love of your life?’

  ‘You just woke me up with a beery kiss! I’m bound to be a bit grumpy.’

  ‘Come upstairs now and I can do better than a beery kiss…’

  ‘Oh God!’ Jasmine squeaked. ‘Sister! In room!’

  Dylan threw his head back and laughed. ‘Off you go then, sis! Back to Rich and you won’t be in the room then.’

  Jasmine frowned and glanced back at the door. ‘Where is Rich?’

  ‘Um…’ Dylan looked at Darcie. ‘Where is Rich? We left with him, didn’t we?’

  Just then there was a knock at the door. Darcie ran to answer it and Rich stumbled over the threshold. ‘Are you there, darling?’ he called through as he followed Darcie to the living room.

  Jasmine rolled her eyes. ‘Thanks, Dylan, he’s drunker than you, isn’t he? I thought the barman was supposed to keep the punters from getting too drunk.’

  ‘He’s not too drunk,’ Dylan said defensively, ‘he’s just the right amount drunk.’

  ‘That is very true, my little hippy chick,’ Rich said, practically falling into a vacant armchair.

  ‘So it looks like me walking you home, rather than the other way around,’ Jasmine said with a frown.

  ‘You could stay here,’ Dylan said.

  ‘Where would they sleep?’ Millie asked.

  ‘Oh…’ Dylan shrugged.

  ‘I’ll go a
nd make some coffee before you go,’ said Millie, pushing herself up from the armchair and heading for the kitchens.

  ‘I’ll help!’ Dylan called after her and followed clumsily. The clang of a metal pot followed as it bounced across the tiles of the kitchen, followed by Millie hissing a curse and Dylan laughing. Jasmine glanced down at Oscar, but the racket hadn’t bothered him one bit.

  Darcie sat down next to Jasmine. ‘Has Oscar been good?’ she asked.

  ‘An angel,’ Jasmine said, looking down fondly at the little boy who was now dropping off to sleep.

  ‘You always did have a way with babies,’ Rich said. ‘The baby whisperer, that’s what you are.’

  ‘I’m a bit out of practise now,’ she said with a smile. ‘It’s been nice to have a proper cuddle. I know it’s hard to trust other people with your baby at first – I was just the same when ours were born – but I think Millie is coming around to the idea of accepting help with him now. She’s been asleep nearly all evening, so she must have needed it.’

  ‘I bet she feels amazing now,’ Darcie agreed. ‘She’s been exhausted every day since I got here, even before he was born.’

  ‘The last couple of months are hellish when you’re expecting,’ Jasmine agreed. ‘And then when Oscar was premature there would have been the added stress of worrying about him.’

  ‘Do you think that’s why he cries so much?’ Darcie asked.

  ‘Maybe some of his mother’s stress affected him,’ Jasmine said. ‘Babies pick up on that sort of thing instinctively.’

  ‘He probably cries because he’s realised he’s got Dylan as a dad,’ Rich slurred from his armchair, his eyes closed.

  ‘If that rule applies then ours should have been suicidal,’ Jasmine shot back. Rich didn’t open his eyes or reply, but simply grinned to himself. She looked up at Darcie. ‘Perhaps I should suggest that I take Oscar home with me tonight? It would give all three of you a rest from the four o’clock alarm call.’

  ‘We have to get up anyway to get the ovens on,’ Darcie said.

  ‘Yes, but at least you won’t have a baby to worry about as well. That’s got to be worth something. Besides, I’d love to have him and my brood are staying with friends so the house is empty tonight.’